Friday, March 22, 2013

Back Seat (Published in Monterey Poetry Journal, October 2013)

I see the two of them.

They lie on the back seat of his car.

It is night time, very late.

Soon he will have to take her home.

On the dashboard, a can of coke

Mixed with rum. Moonlight

Lifts his face out of darkness.

The man turns his whole body to her,

In a rush of need,

Covers her like a mountain,

pours himself into her

Once, twice, many times.

She feels an odd boredom

Being rocked and rolled about,

And turns her head to the window,

Wide open, filled with dark things, 

and nearby a large and silent cow, 

which she watches as she waits 

for the storm to pass through her.